A Bad Boy

This story takes place before events described in "Can I Get A Ride? Pts 1 & 2" Author does not condone the use of mind-altering substances for the base pursuit of "getting high".

*

She had a crush on a boy. She knew that he was probably no good for her. Her mama had warned her about boys like him, attractive in that scruffy way, leather jacket over white tee shirt, cigarette behind his ear, baggy blue jeans. She had been warned, repeatedly, that boys like him would only break her heart, and wouldn't she please just pick a boy who was going to be a doctor or a lawyer or an accountant or some other insufferably boring thing. That was probably why she had such trouble concentrating, when she knew he was sitting right behind her in their Introduction to American Literature class.

Their professor was assigning a new book for them to read, and an essay on it due on Monday. Since it was Wednesday, Lauren didn't feel that it was enough time. Professor Crowe dismissed them before she had a chance to complain. The quiet bad boy behind her passed her on his way out, and dropped a folded up sheet of paper on her desk.

"Hey, you dropped this," she said. He turned and winked at her and then left the classroom. She opened it up and read it.

"Meet me in the bookstore at 4 if you want help with your essay. Peace & Love, Jonny"

Lauren flipped open her cell phone to check the time. It was 10:30 in the morning. She still had a few classes to get to before then, but then she would be done at 3. She couldn't concentrate in any of her classes. Instead of taking notes she drew hearts and peace signs, wrote "Jonny and Lauren" in the hearts, doodled and hoped. Three o'clock couldn't come soon enough. She dashed to her dorm room to change out of her hoodie and blue jeans. She wasn't sure why, but for some reason she wanted to wear a short skirt and a tight shirt.

Her roommate was gone, so she changed into a very short plaid skirt, that had a flirty bounce to it. She decided that she wanted to look every bit the badass that he was, so she put on her favorite black thong, the one that tied together at the sides, her fishnet stockings and black garter belt. She put on a black push-up bra and a tight white blouse, that buttoned up the front and was simply too small for her, and glimpses of that bra could very easily be seen between the buttons of her blouse. She put on black high heels, and sauntered off to find Jonny.

She found him, at four o'clock, in the campus bookstore, looking through a selection of Hemingway novels.

"Hey," she said, leaning against the bookshelf. He looked up at her, and she did her best to repress her silly grin when she saw his eyes practically popping out of their sockets at the sight of her.

"Hey, Lauren, what's going on?"

"I came to get some help on my essay," she said.

He pulled a thin book out of the bookshelf. "Old Man and the Sea," he said.

"That doesn't look very long."

"It'll only take a couple of hours to read it. But we might need all weekend to get our essays right."

"I'd love the help."

"I'd love to spend the weekend with you," Jonny said. He checked his watch, and then asked, out of the blue, in a quiet, low voice, leaning close to her: "Do you smoke pot?"

Lauren blushed and shook her head. Something from the past came back to her: "Just say no." D.A.R.E. classes and some damned annoying cop. She realized she didn't know a thing about pot, just that it was smoked.

"Have you ever smoked it?" he asked her, in that same low voice. She had to shake her head again. "Do you want to?" he asked.

She looked up at him, into those damned dark eyes, and wondered vaguely if she was making a mistake when she nodded. He put the book back. "I already have a copy at my apartment," he said.

"Where's your apartment?" she asked him.

"Just off campus. Rosemary Street," he said. They walked through campus together.

"What did the time have to do with smoking pot?" she asked him.

"Stoner ritual, or something," Jonny said. "According to folklore, four-twenty is always an occasion to smoke some pot."

"Huh," she said. They came to the edge of campus and crossed busy College Avenue at a stoplight. Jonny lit his cigarette. He offered her one, but she shook her head "no." He only took a couple of drags before he threw it away in the street.

They came to his apartment building and he opened the door, leading her into a hallway. He opened the third door on the left with a key, and Lauren found herself in a small studio apartment. Old rock n roll posters covered the walls and ceiling of the studio apartment. A queen-sized bed sat on the floor in the corner. There was a sofa, in front of a TV with a couple of video game systems. Behind the sofa were two long low bookshelves that were overflowing with books. There was a desk with a computer, but it was turned off. Jonny took a peak at the clock on the wall. 4:15. He sat down on the bed and opened a drawer, pulled out a plastic baggie half full of green leafy nuggets. She sat down on the sofa and watched as he rolled up some of the weed into a joint. It took a few minutes, but then he sat down on the sofa next to her. He raised one end of the joint to his lips, lit the other end with his Bic cigarette lighter, and drew in on the smoke. He handed it to her after he blew out the smoke.

She took it and raised it to her lips. "Just breathe in," he said. She did and coughed after holding in the smoke for just a few seconds. She coughed and the smoke rushed from her lungs. "Whoa, that was a big hit, Lauren, don't worry, you'll get the hang of it." Jonny took the joint back and took another hit, then handed it back to her and stood up. He turned on a blacklight near the bed and pulled the blinds on the window, and the room was aglow in neon color. Lauren looked around with bloodshot eyes, realized she had a joint in her hand, and took another hit as Jonny sat down again next to her.

Jonny took the joint from her and took a hit. He breathed it out and took another hit and handed it back to Lauren. She was slow to take a hit, but she did, and then found herself wondering what it was she felt on her leg. She handed Jonny the joint and watched as he took it, took a hit, and set the joint down in an ashtray. She saw that it was his hand on her leg.

"What about the essay?" she asked. "I need to read that book."

"You're not going to be able to remember much of it now," he said. His hand was inching its way up her fishnet stockings, coming dangerously close to the hem of her skirt. She wanted to scoot away from him, his touch was making her nervous, but she found herself scooting closer to him. Her thoughts were lost in the clouds of her mind, and she just went with the flow when Jonny started kissing her neck.

"No," she said, "I shouldn't, I have a boyfriend," but her protests were in vain. She leaned into him as he kissed up and down her neck, and she realized that she was incredibly wet between the legs. She wondered for a moment who that pesky boyfriend was, failed to conjure his name in the haze of her mind, and began to fall in love with this pothead Jonny from class.

He was pushing her onto her back on the sofa, and he was on top of her. She watched him unbutton his blue jeans and pull them down past his knees. There was a great tent in his boxers, and Lauren realized that her thong was soaked through. He was spreading her legs—and she was letting him—and he lifted her skirt to take a peak at her kitty. "I love your stockings," he said.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she protested, meekly, as he reached up her skirt, examining her thong, finding it was only tied together. He deftly untied both sides at once and pulled it away from her. He felt how it was soaked with her juices, and he raised it to his face, smelled her, tasted her, before throwing the thong to the floor. She tried to get away, then. "No," she said, "please, don't, Jonny, I just wanted help with my essay." She tried to sit up but he pushed her back down, hard. He grabbed her shirt in the middle, where it buttons, and pulled the two sides of the shirt apart, hard. Buttons flew across the room and Jonny stared greedily at her exposed chest, the sexy black push-up bra. He grabbed her wrists, one in each hand, and put them over her head. He managed to get both her arms into a hold in one on his hands. She squirmed under him. "Let me go," she said. "Please, Jonny, no, just let me go." He didn't say anything. With his free hand he pulled down his boxers to his knees, and she saw his hard cock, standing erect and ready. His grip on her was too strong. She couldn't get away. She tried to shut her legs but he was already between them. She felt his hot hard cock rubbing against her crotch, searching for that wet entrance.

"You dressed like such a slut to meet me," he was saying in her ear. His body was pressed against hers, his cock rubbing against her, the tip of his cockhead finally finding the wet entrance to her. He didn't push it in immediately. She tried to move away from him again, but with his free hand he grabbed her hip and suddenly forced himself deeply into her. She cried out and he put his hand over her mouth. They stared at each other. He started to slowly slide his cock out of her, until just the head was inside. Then, slowly, he slid back into her. "You dressed like you wanted me to fuck you. Isn't that what you wanted?"

She tried to speak but his hand was still over her mouth.

"Do you want to be my little whore? My little slut?" He slid his cock in and out, still holding her prone beneath him. In and out, his cockhead hitting all the right spots in her pussy with every thrust. "I'll give you all the weed you want if you just fuck me whenever I want, is that what you want? To be my little whore? Is that why you dressed up like a schoolgirl slut?"

He was fucking her faster now. She closed her eyes, moaning into his hand. She started bucking her hips against his thrusting, trying to get more of his cock into her. Something primal had taken over in her. He took his hand off her mouth and she moaned louder. "Yes yes yes yes yes," she cried out. She wrapped her fishnet stocking legs around him at his hips, bucking her hips and using her legs to push him deeper inside of her.

"Is that what you want you little slut?" he demanded. "To be my whore?"

"Yes yes yes yes yes yes," she cried out. She opened her eyes and realized what she had just done, and that it was too late. He let go of her wrists and she wrapped her newly free arms around him, grabbing his ass with one of her hands, his cock filling her pussy.

He grabbed her ass then and pulled her up with himself, and then sat down on the sofa, Lauren on top of him, his cock still buried deep in her. He ran his hands up and down her fishnet stocking legs, felt up her skirt, played with her garter belt, felt up her tits, all while she rode him hard. She was bouncing up and down on him on the sofa, his cock hitting her in all the right spots, and then suddenly she was coming. She drove herself hard down onto his cock, dug her fingernails into his back, cried out: "I'm coming Jonny I'm coming!" She bucked her hips with him deep inside her, moving his cock around in her pussy, her pussy squeezing at his cock, pulling at it, trying to get more of his hot, hard, thick cock into her. He squeezed both her tits, hard, and she loved it, and then her intense orgasm began to subside.

"Now make me come, you cockslut," Jonny demanded. She knew exactly what to do. Slowly, careful to keep his cock inside her, she turned around, 180 degrees, so that her back was to him. He moved himself closer to the edge of the sofa, so she could get her high-heeled feet on the floor. "I love this view of your tight ass," he said. He grabbed hold of her hips, to help balance her, and started moving her up and down, taking his cock deep into her, and then all the way out to the head. They got into a rhythm. He slapped her ass whenever he wanted her to speed up. Lauren was coming again before she knew it, his cockhead hitting all the right spots every time she went up and every time she went down. "Fuck me hard you slut," Jonny said, and she did. Suddenly, using his grip on her hips, he pulled her hard down on his cock, and held her there. He leaned back and grabbed hold of her tits, pressing her body against his, and he bucked his hips, driving his cock deeper inside her than it had been yet. Then she felt his cock grow inside her, stretching her pussy like it had never been before. He held her tightly. She didn't know anything that big would ever fit inside her.

And then his cock exploded inside her. They screamed out in ecstasy as his cock shot streams of his white hot cum deep into her pussy, filling the depths of her kitty.

He held her for a moment, hugging her tightly. She kissed his cheek, and then he helped her off him. She sat down next to him on the sofa again, leaned against him. He put his arm around her, and with his other hand grabbed the half-smoked joint from the ashtray. He relit it and took a hit and offered it to her. She took it, idly wondered if she would ever be sober again, and then took a hit.

"Now, about that essay," Jonny said.

"What essay?" Lauren asked. She took another hit and gave the joint back to Jonny.

"The Old Man and the Sea."

"Oh, right."

He pulled the thin book from the bookcase, opened it to the first page, and began reading it aloud to her.